Welcome Home
by The Mainstream Hipster
Summary: Did you know that Izaya had a big sister?
1. Arrival

**Disclaimer: If I owned Durarara, it wouldn't be as good as it is now.**

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Jamiko Orihara was finally back.

It had been a decade since she had set foot in Ikebukuro. The crammed streets and buildings, cacophony of chattering and cars, and pungent smell of sweat and smog greeted her as she stepped out of the taxi, dragging her suitcase with her. She took a deep breath and stretched, taking in the afternoon heat and essence of the city. Most people would be overwhelmed; however, these familiar senses comforted her. They reminded her that it wasn't just another dream of finally coming home; that the past ten years were over. She started walking, elated to be back in her hometown.

The past ten years were not kind to her; in fact, they were probably the worst ten years of her life. However, the past wasn't something that she wanted to dwell on right now. The priority of this moment was to find her family.

Earlier, she had went to her old house to find a different family living there. She was told that Orihara's had moved seven years ago from her neighbor.

She pondered about what to do next. Really, she should have known exactly what to do when she got to Japan, but she had spent all of her efforts working to afford the trip and to pay her debts that she hadn't really thought about it. Back then, she half believed that she was going to stay in the hellhole that was America and never see her family again.

Now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure what her family would look like. They must have changed a lot in the past ten years. Her parents were nearly always out of the area. Kururi and Mairu were also out of the question. They were barely out of toddlerhood the last time she saw them; they were what, 14 now? Her vision blurred at the thought of not being there as her sisters grew up. She took a swig from her hidden flask of vodka, the alcohol dulling her senses.

That left Izaya.

Jamiko's mood instantly darkened. She took another swig of vodka. Whenever she asked someone about the Orihara's, they would usually just walk away quickly, pale and wide-eyed. One boy had told her about how Izaya was the most dangerous man in Ikebukuro and that she should stay away from him. A girl with a strange sense of fashion had frowned at her, stating how he broke her phone while laughing maniacally. Another talked about how he had manipulated her into nearly commiting suicide. All of them narrowed their eyes at her, stating that she looked like him.

That left her wondering what had happened when she was gone.

As she hated to say it, Izaya was probably the only one that she could possibly find. Nobody had said anything about her parents or sisters. He also probably looked the same since the last time she saw him compared to everyone else. He also probably had some money she could borrow...

But _fuck,_ he was not the person she wanted to see right now. He was the one who caused her to be stranded in a foreign country in the first place, the little sunovabitch.

She frowned, reprimanding herself_. _She shouldn't think that way about Izaya; he was her little brother and she should shower him with her unconditional love. The people she asked were probably talking about another Izaya Orihara, and it probably wasn't his intention to lie to their parents that she ran away and that she never wanted to see them again, leaving her stuck in America alone, broke, only fourteen years old, and unable to speak English. But he was probably just going through a phase at that time. All twelve year olds were like that, right?

_Right?_

_..._

She brought out her flask.

_Anyway_, he probably grew out of it and was now a responsible adult with a good, _legal_ job (such as a doctor), countless friends, and a loving girlfriend.

And then when they are finally reunited, she would leap into his arms and he would shower him with love and praise for what she's been through.

And then afterwards, they would go out to have dinner in Sunshine 60 with mama, papa, Kururi, and Mairu, who grew up into beautiful, kind girls (who wanted to be doctors in the future). And they would catch up as she cried from elation at how _fucking great_ and _normal _her siblings turned out.

Unless they inherited papa's pathological lying and ability to manipulate others.

Or mama's eccentricity and bipolar tendencies.

She took gulp of alcohol.

Ok, she was getting a little frusterated. She had been walking around the city aimlessly for hours and still did not find him, or anyone else she knew (who were very few; she had always been a rather antisocial person). _Where is everyone?_

She sniffed, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. Who knows; it could take days, maybe weeks, to find someone she knew, and she was tired and hungry and didn't have much money left-

Someone tapped on her shoulder. "Excuse me miss, are you all right?" A girl said, interrupting her thoughts and making stiffen in surprise. Jamiko turned to a girl with a hat holding a few pouches of juice. The blonde boy next to her grinned and patted Jamiko shoulder, trying to comfort her.

Jamiko nodded, wiping her tears away with her sleeve. "Yeah."

The girl smiled, handing her a juice pouch, earning a thank you from the recipent. "Good... My name is Karisawa Erika and this-" she gestured to the blonde kid next to her-"is Yumasaki Walker."

The boy grinned, holding up a hand. "Yo."

"Orihara Jamiko."

They both stared at her, shocked. "Ehhhh?" Now that they thought about it, she looked exactly like Izaya...

Jamiko sighed, "And yes, I am unfortunately related to Izaya Orihara. "

Walker grinned. "Are you kidding?! This is so cool! You're like a genderbent version of Izaya!"

Jamiko tilted her head in confusion. "W-what..."

"I know right!? She's like a female Izaya, but less of a bitch and a little more gloomy... Oh my gosh, I wonder how Shizuo-san would react..." Erika gasped, a strange glint in her eyes. " Walker, I think I have a new otp!"

"Erika no."

"Hahaha... I totally ship them now!"

"C'mon, we just met her!"

"Haha nope, you can't stop me~"

Jamiko was confused as the two bickered on, talking about her and some guy named "Shizuo."

"I'm sorry, but can you tell me where Izaya is? I kind of want to see him as soon as possible," she asked, interrupting them.

"Oh, we actually saw him pass by earlier. He's probably around that building over there," Erika pointed to a tower.

Jamiko bowed. "Thank you," she said, heading towards where Erika pointed.

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When she got near the building, she noticed that people were walking away or keeping a safe distance from two men facing each other. One was a lanky blond bartender. The other was some generic asian guy with a thick fur coat even though it was ninety degrees out and he was probably sweating like a dying pig.

The blond man was growling, a raging snarl on his face, resembling her rabid cat Fluffy, may he rest in peace. The other guy had her back to her, holding a switchblade. It looked like a fight was about to break out between them that would probably result in missing organs and detatched limbs.

Usually, Jamiko would just walk away and leave these conflicts alone, not wanting to be involved in anything they were about to do. But something about the generic asian guy caught her attention.

Something about the way he carried himself was very... Izaya-ish.

"Shut the hell up! What did I tell you about setting foot in Ikebukuro, Izaaayaaa-kun?!" the blond man growled, tucking his blue glasses into his vest.

The other guy- no, _Izaya _laughed mischieviously. Even with his back turned to her, she could see that same, douche-baggy smirk contort his face. "Relax, Shizu-chan, I didn't do anything! What's wrong with wanting to visit my friends?"

The other guy, Shizu-chan, clenched his fists. "Like hell you are!" He took a nearby street sign, the metal bending in his grip. Izaya flicked a switchblade open. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

But she didn't give a damn about the tension in the air or the strange, almost inhuman strength of the blond man. All she cared about was that the man in front of her was her little brother. She ran towards him, crying in relief. She found him... _she had found her little brother._

She put a hand on his shoulder, afraid that she would get stabbed if she suddenly glomped him. She was so happy... she loved her little brother so, _so _much. She had always dreamed about this day, where she would finally be reunited with her family after a whole decade o_f poverty and stress and crying herself to sleep all because of **him and his fucking lies**-_

He turned around, still smiling. "Wha-"

He was met with a fist to his face.

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	2. Reunited

Izaya doubled over, cradling his cheek with his hand. "Wa... Nice jab!" he praised to the person who hit him, trying to keep his cool in front of his arch enemy even though his mind was screaming. How dare someone defile his perfect, godly face.

Shizuo stared at the girl in confusion. What the...

Izaya looked down at the hysterical girl that had hit him. It was strange; it was like looking into a mirror. Except this Izaya was female. And a little malnourished. And _extremely_ angry. "Ehh, who are you?"

The girl answered by screaming and trying to hit him in the face again. Izaya simply dodged her fist, having experience from sparring with Shizuo as she tried to hit him again. He just dodged it, grinning as she kept trying to hit him.

While they were fighting, Shizuo was contemplating whether to step in or not. If he threw something at them, he would hit Izaya but possibly the stranger and end up looking like a total douchebag for landing some crying girl in the hospital. But if he stepped in directly, then he would probably get told off by the girl or shanked by the flea.

Not that being stabbed hurt him or anything. It was just really hard to get blood out of white clothes.

Screw it, he just decided to sit this one out and watch them fight. He didn't really want to step in anyway; he had a feeling that the girl would somehow come out alive. Besides, he didn't really want to get in the way of crying women.

How interesting! Izaya grinned, elated to have a new toy. He observed her. Despite her very frail build she was actually kind of fast, being able to keep up with him. Izaya gave her that. Her movements were graceful and seemed to be calculated, trying to catch him off guard. But by the looks of it, she lacked any form. It seemed that she never took a martial arts class in her life. It also looked like she was running out of breath, given that she was shrieking her lungs out at him.

But alas, this was getting boring. This girl was too predictable. It was time to finish this.

He rushed up to her, closing the distance and aimed his blade at her throat. He wanted to see how she would react to his cold blade pressed against her jugular, the same mortal fear evident in her eyes as she instantly regrets ever having her unworthy fist make contact with his flawless, untouchable face-

Jamiko, hyped up on adrenaline and hell bent for vengeance, swatted his arm away with a surprising speed, giving her the opportunity to jam her sharp, bony knee up into the delicate organ between his legs with all the strength she could muster.

It apparently was a lot of strength, seeing that the Most Dangerous Man in Ikebukuro screamed three octaves higher than his usual vocal range and was actually lifted off the ground for a few seconds before landing, nearly unconscious from pure, _unadulterated pain _and curled up into the fetal position, crying and holding on to his male bits.

The crowd that had collected around the sparring duo all gasped, some of the men instinctively holding on to their junk, feeling very, _very _sorry for Izaya. Even Shizuo, who had been trying to kill Izaya for the past few years, had winced a little.

Jamiko stood over him, her teary eyes of a different level of unbridled, raging fury that even Shizuo had yet to reach. You have anything to say, Izaaaayaaa?" She drawled, stepping on his side.

He was too busy sobbing about his dislocated testicles (which may or not may have been bleeding) but managed to choke out, "N-no ma'am."

Jamiko growled and dug her shoe into his rib, causing him to groan in more pain (if that was possible.) "You mean you don't remember me, _outoto-chan?"_

God dammit another Orihara.

The crowd around them quickly dispersed, not wanting anything to do with family matters, especially if said family contained a certain sadistic information broker. Shizuo, who was used to dealing with Orihara's, just stayed at the sidelines, enjoying the show as he silently recording the whole thing to use as black-mail later on.

Izaya's eyes widened as he stared up at his long-lost sister. Oh _fuckmeupintheasswithapieceofplastic_, he forgot about her...

"J-Jami-nee... how was you're... err... vacation?"

"Vacation?!" She shrieked, breaking his rib, "You left me stranded in one of the most dangerous cities in the world!"

"I-I'm sure it wasn't that bad..."

Her eye twitched. "Bad?! I traded girls for cigarettes!"

He gave her the most charming smile he could muster, deciding to try to charm his way out of this one. He knew that it might not work, but fuck it, he was desperate and probably was going to die soon anyway. "S-sorry, about that... I was so busy with med school that I forgo-er, _lost track _of what happened to you. And I want you to know that I missed you and that you are a wonderful big sister and that I love you," his voice sickly sweet and a little high-pitched. He internally winced at how stupid and fake it sounded.

"..."

Shitshitshit oh my me he was going to die.

He turned to Shizuo and gave him a look of pure helplessness, hoping that he would find some humanity stirring in that dark abyss in his chest where his heart should be and help him.

Shizuo took out his phone, gave him a very wide and real grin, and took a picture of his pathetic expression. The bastard.

He made a mental note to burn the cretin's apartment down after this.

Of course, _if _he lived. There was no guarantee that he would survive, given the look on Jamiko's face.

He closed his eyes, a defeated smile on his face as he accepted his fate.

...

Why wasn't he dead?

He opened an eye cautiously to see Jamiko crying.

"I-Izayaaaa!" and she wailed, weeping passionate Jesus tears. Her baby brother was back... she fell on her knees and held him as she started to blab hysterically. "It's okay sweetie, big sister is here! I forgive you for leaving me in another country because I love you and missed you very much-"

Izaya smirked in glee at how easily she forgave him. Oh goody! She was easily manipulated. This was going to be so fun...

He couldn't help but let out a small giggle, the small chuckle soon transitioning to full-blown maniacal cackling of the psychopath he was as he thought of all the ways this could be used to his advantage.

His sister smiled at the beautiful sound of his tinkling laughter and cried more tears of elation.

Shizuo just watched the two insane siblings, one laughing to the point where his eyes rolled to the back of his head for what appeared to be no reason and the other sobbing emotionally at how beautiful his obviously crazed laughter was.

It scared him at how these types of things didn't even freak him out anymore. He was just kind of used to it now.

He saw Izaya stop laughing and become very, very still.

Jamiko felt him become loose in her arms and let him go. Oh crap, he was unconscious.

"Fuuuuuuuu-" she was freaking out, holding onto his limp body. She couldn't believe that she knocked out the only person who could provide her a place to live in. _Now_ where was she going to sleep?

Oh yeah, and she just knocked out her sweet little brother. You know, that she loved.

...

Yeah.

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